Fanatics and All
by Tigerdust
Summary: The future is one of those things that Logan doesn't seem to think about. It doesn't apply. But after a rescue by Cyclops, certain priorities have to be reassessed, in light of new information. Slashfic.


Restraints were strapped around his body, tightening and gripping muscles already atrophied with pain outside the normal tolerance of human standards. Logan remembers the details of standing, the way the rocks shifted as he was lifted and hidden in a makeshift tent laboratory. His body was deadlocked, racked with pain and yet unable not to keep his mutant processes from going. Wolverine did not fear death nor torture. The Stryker fanatics were enough to handle.

Only three days had passed in the standing cage. His knees weren't even weak yet, despite the fact they had broken bats against them, tried electroshock therapy to hurt his metal skeleton, and even done the water boarding technique. Apparently, they hadn't consulted the originals of his production. He had already been born by water boarding baptism.

The restraints didn't feel tight enough. They were certainly good quality material, expanding nicely with the movement of muscle or bone in any direction but they didn't leave those same searing welts he had experienced with the duct tape. True, his claws could cut through anything save for diamonds, but the adhesive was annoying enough. It gummed up retraction and just irritated the hell out of his skin. It was hard enough being a mutant without inspiring rosacea commercials.

Logan felt like a lucky break was a godsend from Ororo. She had offered him the use of her divine watchtower and he had snuffed at that because of her disbelief. But it was possible that from her home safe and snuggled and beautiful Queen of her village, she had actually implored to the shamanic tenets of her faith and done something for him. Or there was a far more possible human element involved.

"You're awake."

Sure as hell, the cloth wasn't quiet when he began to rip through it. Logan had avoided opening his eyes until this moment, hoping that it was all just a bad dream. He needed a lot to things to be merely bad dreams.

Logan snarled defensively. "I've got nothing to...Cy."

"No witty nickname?"

Wolverine began to work through the bandages around his forearm, noting several layers around his knees and calves and a semi-loose one crossing the veins on his neck. "What? You miss our little pet name thing?"

Scott turned, crows feet visibly crackling from the edges of his glasses almost to his ears. The binoculars from his glasses cascaded back down to the pack riding high on his chest, a shelf attached to his camelbak. Trading the fold able additions to his titanium glass stripe across his red eddies, he pulled out a dark blue palm device.

Registering with a beep, Scott held the device over his glasses just long enough for it to glow to life. Logan watched with mild interest. "Not gonna poke me with the damn thing are you?"

Scott shook his head as he knelt at Logan's still wrapped calves. "Not taking any chances."

"I'm not an upgrade. You know my body rejects that."

Logan imagined Scott's glare as he felt the tapering pinch against his groaning muscles, which actually tingled them to feel a bit better, like acupuncture. "Could still have one of the wyrm implants."

"Givin' you points for paranoia, one eye." Logan was grateful to move his knees, hearing the pop and groan of the gears turning and gnashing inside of his body.

"One of the things I'm grateful you taught me."

Logan licked his lips, feeling the cracked singe of dead skin. He was used to it, but it seemed just a hint deeper than normal. They had been dehydrating him how long?

Scott was nonplussed by the licking lips. "You're clean."

Logan bit at his words with a hint of irony. "Thanks. You heard from the kid since I been gone?"

Scott shook his head as he watched Logan struggle himself to a standing position near the side of the bed. "Rogue and Gambit are still hidden in the Deep South, working their corridor. He had to restrain her when they found it. It was stupid of you to go after Beast's work, Logan."

Logan shook his head as he brought his beefy forearms over his head and stretched them with a satisfying burst of thrust and muscle pop. "You never did much care for risky missions."

"They could have killed you. It would have been demoralizing for Rogue. You know that."

Logan shook his head. "Kid'll be fine on her own."

Logan walked away from the conversation casually. Flipping the lights on in the restroom, he was disappointed to find that they didn't work. Shrugging since amenities weren't really part of the world Logan was adjusting too, he worked the knobs until cold water shot down into his hands from the tap. Cupping the water and lapping like a dehydrated dog, Logan felt the drops cascade down over his feet, the cold tile, and even on the front of his pants.

Scott stared at him curtly. "You can't make a decision like that for just anyone. If Northstar were to run off and leave France for the sake of..."

Logan let one claw spike out of his free hand as he shut the water off. "I don't need lectures. You of all people know that about me."

Scott shook his head and turned away from the door. "Everything changes, but you're still the same reckless wolf you always were."

Logan spoke over the sound of his own pissing into the toilet bowl. His cock in his own hands felt alien to him somehow, as though he were a stranger under his own skin. It felt good, though, to have a bit of privacy for the first time in, what was it..weeks? Logan couldn't think back that far and it was probably healthier not to. No, weeks ago had been when they had taken hold of Cerebra and Shadow King had implemented himself in Xavier's mind. Scott had surprised everyone then, cutting the old snake off at the head.

Logan grunted as he finished, the last few drops plopping down on the lid. He could feel the rhythm of his pulse against his meat, his pubes matted down by exhaustion and yet still bushier than the plain white boxers that Scott must have fitted for him while he was cleaning him up. Logan shook his head when he thought of Cyclops. Its a wonder he don't pop his own head off being that tight wound.

As expected, the more cosmetic of the scars had already healed and he had slept long enough that even the deeper ones were becoming ridiculously cosmetic. He viewed his darkened gaze and shadowed visage in the partially cracked mirror, fingers gripping his body and tracing the scars as they closed. He concentrated on one particularly slow section of skin along his right bicep. He could see Scott just beyond the trailing gaze, staring taut out the window and back to viewing through his binoculars.

"You really think you were tailed?"

Scott didn't even bother to turn as Logan sauntered into the room. "Vigilance. Beast taught us that, it became the Professor's unofficial motto when Stryker became President after the Fear set in. We're just as doomed to repeat the sins of the past if we aren't watching."

"You shoot beams out of your eyes. I'd hate to be the guy trying to sneak up on someone so tight wound to give them a birthday surprise or something. I hope you were able to save me a gumbo."

Scott sighed, giving up on the premise of lecturing Logan. It only caused headaches anyways. "I anticipated the rescue so there is one in the bag for you. Can't promise the wheat bread though." Scott blatantly refused to comment on the sneaking up aspect of his personality. He had shattered one too many gifts during birthday surprise parties that way.

"Damn." Logan snarled.

Scott half turned from the nearly closed curtains and then just turned back, trying to ignore Logan as he stripped his shirt off. "You're supposed to heat it and eat it, not wear it."

"Very funny." Logan answered, amusement clearly not the emotion he was feeling. "You know I eat the gumbo cold first of all. And second of all, I recall a time where you didn't seem to mind taking a long look or two."

Scott's voice was adamant. "Not the time."

"Nuh-uh, one eye. In a world like this, you gotta make the time. What did you expect when you sprung me? I wasn't going get suspicious and think you weren't going to want gratitude?"

Scott shook his head. "We're just comrades in this fight, Wolverine."

"That's bullshit."

Scott sighed. "We're getting too old for this. You know that I don't...not after Emma."

Logan wolfed down the last crumbs of the wheat bread with the MRE and moved closer to Scott. Scott backed up into the wall. "I think it's more complicated than that. Jean would want you to be happy. And hate to break it to ya, bub, but I'm not aging. You are."

"Are you telling me what I think you're telling me, Wolverine?"

"Fine. You want me to say it, want me to beg? You know the reason I stayed in New York instead of going back to Ontario to help Alpha was because you were on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I took care of you when Stryker formed his presidential alliance. I watched the world go to shit, your life specifically when you destroyed Xavier. And I stood by because you're one of the few people I could stand to believe in. You're one of the few people I'm proud of. And maybe, deep down inside you feel the same."

Scott turned away, reaching down into the pouch absentmindedly so that he could start scanning the area for the thirteenth time that evening. Logan's arms wouldn't let him. Even malnourished, they were stronger than Scott expected, but not more so than what he remembered. Veins were pumping again, his engine was being stoked, but Scott was having none of Logan's promise of a kneading bite along his collar bone.

"You need rest."

"You can't shut me out, Scott. You want me."

"I don't care what I want. I won't care and I certainly can't afford to indulge you. Not with times these perilous."

Logan's embrace drew around Scott all the tighter until Scott had tried turning and only gotten a half-mast bulge in the crack of his ass for thanks. "If there's one thing I've learned, One eye, it's that you should never put off until tomorrow what you can do today."

Scott felt himself lifted three inches off his feet. He gave a half-hearted squirm, knowing better than to mess with Wolverine while he was in a mood, and then felt himself plop down on the bed, his rear flanked in the air. He was annoyed slightly, but could hear that Logan was doing pretty much everything except drooling.

"Yeah, I know that ass of yours. I thought about it, often enough, in that blue spandex that showed it off. You didn't need special senses to smell that one out. I knew it from the minute I met you what you needed."

Scott turned his head so that it faced Logan. "How long is this going to take? You need rest for the next leg of the journey."

Logan chuckled, climbing over the top of Scott's body, pouring pressure into the sensitive areas of his back and cupping Scott's ass with his own thighs. "I can make you enjoy it, make you beg for it. Is that what you want? Did you miss me that bad?"

Scott growled low in his throat. "You don't know the first thing about me."

"No? What about this? What the hell do you call this?"

Logan slid his hand down around Scott's midsection. Scott squirmed but Logan's vice grip of a body persisted in maneuvering so Logan's own palm sat right on top of the head and first inch or so of Scott's cock, locked away in his pants. Logan hadn't expected Scott to welcome him back with open arms, after volunteering for all the crazy and nearly suicidal missions. Logan could feel the tense resistance in Scott's body, figuring that he would need to woo his man back.

"Get away from that."

"No. Not until you tell me what the hell is wrong."

Scott kicked upward with a foot, finding a tender spot on Logan's ankles and then squirming away to where the pillows had been on the bed. With his back against another wall, Scott pulled his body as far away from Logan as he could. Scott knew he couldn't trust himself around the reckless, charismatic Logan and that, forgetting all pretense, he really didn't care to all that much. No matter how much the man infuriated him.

Logan hissed low between his two front teeth. Scott knew that a kick like that wouldn't even leave a bruise. It was merely a way to infuriate him. And he hadn't been incorrect about that. Logan was used to games, but he couldn't wait. He had had his fill of everything else: torture, exhaustion, sleep, pissing and MRE. He needed, no he wanted, body heat. And he wanted it now.

Scott witnessed Logan's pounce as it came upon him. It was a surreal, graceful event. The man's body could spring like a well-oiled jackelope and yet still amaze him every time it happened. Having just enough time to react, Scott slid across the top of the bed. He almost made it, but not quite enough.

The cold sting of metal fell as Logan began working at Scott's slacks, slowly and tediously moving up the seam. Cyclops could already feel the pulse of shivers and goosebumps working their way up the leg and up farther into the spine, not even seeming to stop at the brain.

"You just had to do this the hard way."

Scott blinked, his arms held out in the push up position as he felt himself being pulled back onto the bed as his pants were being unceremoniously ripped off. "As I recall, that is the only way with you."

Logan stopped just short of the crotch. "You really are pissed off at me. Not fighting it or anything. You think I just want to fuck you, that it?"

Scott gained enough of the bed back to flip himself so that he was merely spread eagle before Logan and his arms were holding him off the ground in a less awkward position. He propped himself up with his elbows. "Isn't that the truth? I'm only good for being the guy who waits for you?"

Logan was taken aback. "Jesus Christ! You actually believe that?"

Scott blinked, or what passes for blinking when your eyes are simply giant beams of red light. "What else would I believe? You mock off implants, all our comrades and you suddenly think I want to be your plaything and forget all that? No thanks."

The air stopped for a moment between them. "Are you saying you don't wanna or you saying something else? Spit it out, One-eye."

"I'm saying..." Scott sighed heavily, moving closer onto the bed more out of necessity than anything, "...I'm saying that I'm getting old and my heart can't take much more. I'd rather die from loneliness than die from losing the last vestiges of who I was."

"You're not just fucking a memory pal."

Scott shrugged. "You get your ass either way, Logan. You always do"

Moving now that he had said his piece, he did not expect Logan to grab him into a deep hug. Fingers intertwined, furry chest against smooth back and breath that smelled like those same cigars no matter how much mouthwash or gum he swallowed, and the lump in the back of Scott's throat traveled down into his stomach.

"Fine. No more missions. Thats it then. We'll find somewhere else to go."

Scott struggled with the cracking in his voice, trying to justify what exactly Logan was proposing. "Don't mean it. Just...just angry."

Logan held Scott as he deflated, seeming to melt into the bed and into Logan's breath. Logan brought cracked, freezing hands up to his own. "Scotty boy, I've been away too long, haven't I?"

Beginning at the tips, he kissed each finger tip, paying special attention to Scott's thumb. He could feel himself getting hard as he rounded the top of the thumb, remembering the sensation and the tremble of their first time, when that thumb had been the only gap between Logan seeing stars and something Scott couldn't convince himself wasn't real later.

"Stop it."

"No. Not until you realize what I'm telling you ain't a lie."

Nuzzling into the neck of the redhead, Logan let his body move over Scott's firm flesh. He was already starting to feel a small gasp of pleasure riding just high of Scott's stomach. Every time the thumb moved over another inch, there was a tense shiver or a groan. Space, electric and vibrant, as he hovered over the crotch, made Scott push away, giving Logan just another taste of the cupping of a hard cock.

"Fine. This what you want? Prove it to me. Fool me. But I swear to God, if you're lying...I am more than gone."

Shirt flung violently to the floor, socks kicked off and pants slid down over thin thighs with those angular muscles that were a dream to hold, to slide around. Scott stood bare in front of Logan, tall and flush. He was bearing too much passion for Logan not to enjoy it.

Standing up on the bed at his knees, Logan beckoned with the slick movement of a claw. "Get over here, Slim."

Logan fell to his side, Scott bending slightly so that Logan could take his length nicely. Logan started slowly, building his way up to a gag. He worked the cock in with his jaw. His mouth was still cool as ice, but Scott could feel that heat as his member swelled nicely, the line of tension from his vein traced from memory with tongue.

Logan's hands snaked their way, down towards his zipper. Freeing his hard cock, Logan found it responsive to the call of his expert grip. His hard, slightly tanned, nine inches pulsed amongst the lines crossing in his veins and the nicks all across his hands.

"Dirty trick, Logan."

Logan licked his lips. "I know."

Scott crawled in next to Logan's side. His nose buried deep in Logan's balls as his sighs responded to Logan continuing to work cock with tongue. Scott was jealous of his ability, it came with a time that only Wolverine alone could really master. The best Scott could hope for was a lucky jut of the hips, letting him know he was doing it right.

"Oh baby, you know just what I like. Gonna give you something in return."

Scott tried to untense as Logan licked his middle finger with his tongue seductively and gently found the spot right at the top of his hole. Applying pressure, Scott felt his lustful alarm bells go off. He needed to do something to regain control of the situation. Too bad all he could think about was the cock that he was absentmindedly stroking as he had turned from his side to laying down on the bed.

Logan watched Scott watching him as the finger penetrated slowly, at a maddening pace. A burst of hot pain and Logan felt Scott's body move, trying to resist but crying out in the crescendo to thrust. The squints on the side of Scott's eyes moved just enough that Logan knew Scott was caving to the desire. So he pulled out slowly, delicately and then began again.

By the third pass, Scott was panting for it, his head resting on Logan's thigh and his entire body caught up in a spasm.

"Looks like you're getting there faster than me. Not fair at all, One-eye. Wouldn't want me to think you've gotten selfish in your old age, would you?"

Scott couldn't hear himself, almost shouting in that whiny voice that Logan had always brought out in him during stressful missions. "Just get the condom out of the side pocket, right where it always is."

"You sure do know how to get a fella all hot and bothered," Wolverine stated as he extended his claw enough to grab the pack, pick out the condom with his teeth, grin wolfishly and wink at Scott as the pack hovered just enough that the straps tickled Scott's smooth skin as it passed him on the other side.

But Logan knew he couldn't wait too long or the magic of his touch would wear off. Rolling the condom over his member, which was aching for release and to be inside Scott anyways, Logan grunted a sigh of happiness. "Been waiting for you to want this, ever since I woke up."

"Are you going to talk or are you going to do it?"

Logan shrugged wickedly. "Somebody in this room has lost their sense for foreplay and its not the guy who was tortured. How'd that happen, I wonder? You miss it then, the feeling of invasion? You miss me howling your name? You miss me thrusting deep, leaving you begging and wanting it? Leaving you starving as I..."

Whatever he was thinking got cut off as the tip of his cock entered Scott slowly. Even after all this time, Scott still wasn't very loose. The muscles from the running and the high impact workouts created a tight seal. It wasn't as painful as the popping of the cherry, but it required a bit of push and dedication. Logan always admired Scott for his ass.

Scott grabbed onto his own cock with his left hand. He stroked himself hard, biting down on his lip. "God, Logan, missed you..."

"I...know...need you..." Logan snapped his head back with the first thrust and pull back and gave a silent howl to the moon. Then he began the serious business of gaging thrust reaction, wait time, and all that. He couldn't let this end too early and Scott looked like he was already getting there.

To hell with it, he decided to no one in particular. Logan began thrusting wildly. He wasn't breaking a sweat yet, but Scott was. He was slick, shivering with the feeling of nine inches of mansicle working its way in his muscles. He shifted weight to one side and Logan found himself fitting just right into Scott's body. His thick forearms bore down, pinning Scott under him as both sets of hips bucked wildly.

Logan whispered deep in his throat. "Kiss me."

Scott shook his head to the side as best he could. "You're not ready to cum. That kiss is your finishing mood."

"You're ready for me though."

Scott was right. He was thrusting back hard though. He knew he was going to feel it sooner, rather than later, but he didn't care. He just couldn't afford to. Scott grabbed onto Logan's lips with his own, pushing himself up until his hands were grabbing into the back of Logan's flesh. The ripples of sliding hips worked its way equally through the men.

Logan stopped for a just a moment, thrusting one final moment into Scott before he ground them both in the bed. He howled into Scott's throat, the vibration shivering through both their bodies as they were stretched out into the ecstasy of the body for whatever passes as a sexual eternity.

Bodies ached, afterward, but they were close to those same sights and smells and Scott couldn't risk that. He couldn't risk knowing his fingernails wouldn't stay embedded in Logan's body. So he pulled the hairy, purring chest forward and forgot all the rest in the world, fanatics and all.


End file.
